


People Are Strange — When You’re A Stranger

by seltzerboy



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Bad 90s Movie References, Bill And Eddie Are Best Friends Because Yes, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, High School, Lots Of 90s Music Too, M/M, SNES, Slow Burn, The 90s
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-24 17:28:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15635355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seltzerboy/pseuds/seltzerboy
Summary: The year is 1992, and Eddie Kaspbrak is 16 years old.  He goes to school just like anyone else, has a few good friends, he even has a best friend, Bill.  They take pictures, listen to punk bands, and wish for something interesting to happen in their small hometown of Derry, Maine.  Then, finally, something does happen.  Well, someone, to be exact.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In this timeline Pennywise doesn’t exist, Derry Maine is just a boring, regular town, filled with boring, regular people. The Losers all exist, and they’re all friends, all except for Richie. But that changes, obviously. This is going to be done in multiple chapters, updates coming once or twice a week. As always, commenting is encouraged, and enjoy :)
> 
> Also, the title is taken from a song by The Doors, People Are Strange. It’s a rad song, you should give it a listen.

“Hey, did you h-hear there’s gonna be a n-new kid tr-transferring here suh-soon?” Eddie and Bill were eating lunch together in the Derry High cafeteria, the large room filled with hundreds of other teenagers laughing and talking and shouting. Eddie shook his head, chewing his peanut butter and jelly sandwich. 

“Where’d you hear that?” He asked, before taking a sip of juice. 

“Well, I-I don’t know for sh-sure, but Stan said that Mike heard from B-Beverly that Ben overheard it when he was helping Mrs. P-P-Pearson with copies in the teachers lounge,” Bill was finished with his lunch, holding the balled up remains of a Snickers wrapper and passing it from hand to hand. 

“Well gee, that sounds like a reliable source for sure,” Eddie says. Bill hits him on the arm playfully. 

“Hey, when’s the l-last time someone new came to Derry, man? What if he’s c-cool?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, getting up to throw away his trash. Bill followed him. 

“Yeah right, no one cool has ever stepped foot in this town,” he turned to face his friend, holding the straps of his backpack tightly in both hands, “and besides, so what if he is? It’s not like he’ll want anything to do with us.” 

Bill looked down defeatedly. 

“Yeah, I g-guess you’re right. Wanna stop by the d-dark room to see if our ph-photos are done yet?” Eddie nodded, smiling at his friend. 

Eddie and Bill had become fascinated with photography, ever since Bills Dad got him a camera for his 15th birthday. An old Minolta X-570. Bill carried it with him everywhere, although sometimes he would let Eddie borrow it for the weekend, which Eddie would look forward to immensely. They would develop their photos at school, using the dark room. No one else really went in there, aside from the janitor once a week. They took photos of everything, from football games to sights around Derry. Sometimes they would take photos of their friends, but none of them really got the fixation they felt. Capturing moments in time, to be able to look at a picture and feel the energy, see the emotions on people’s faces, the beauty of the world. There was nothing else like it. 

Eddie and Bill arrived at the dark room to find it empty, like always. Their pictures that they’d developed earlier were now completely dry, hanging on the clothes line above the baths of chemicals. Bill stared at them all in fixation for a moment, the red light making them all look almost ghostly, before taking them down carefully and stacking them in a neat pile. Eddie tried to peek over his shoulder to get a glimpse. They left the dark room, walking out into the hall and sitting down with their backs against the wall. Bill held the photos in his hands, Eddie staring at them excitedly. They looked through all of them, occasionally pointing out an angle that they really liked or a shot that looked particularly interesting. The hall was deserted, meaning their was no one around to give them weird looks or laugh at them. Eddie smiled, taking a photo out of Bills hands and looking at it closely. It was a shot of the front of the Aladdin Theater, the marquee reading ‘Alien 3’. Bill could be seen in the bottom right corner, standing on the sidewalk and giving a thumbs up, smiling at the camera. It made Eddie smile too, touching the photograph lightly. Bill saw what he was looking at and scoffed. 

“I look like such a d-doofus in that one,” he laughed. 

“Nah, that’s just what you look like all the time,” he chuckled, making Bill hit his leg lightly. 

The bell rang, signaling the end of their little photo session. Bill stood up, gathering all his pictures and putting them in his bag. Eddie stood up as well, tugging at his backpack straps tightly. 

“I’ll see you at the bike rack,” he said, and Bill nodded, starting to walk down the hall. Eddie turned to go in the opposite direction, towards geometry. He suddenly remembered something. 

“Hey wait!” he shouted, making Bill turn around, “are we still hanging out with Stan after school?” 

“No, he said he c-couldn’t make it, suh-something about an emergency B-Boy Scouts meeting, whatever that means!” Bill yelled back, as the hallway began to fill with other students. 

“Okay, I’ll see ya then,” Eddie said, before turning back around and walking to geometry. 

.

Eddie sighed, listening to Mr. Maxwell read through the same line of MacBeth for about the 14th time. He really wanted them to understand Lady MacBeths soliloquy, but Eddie had gotten it the first time around. He shut his eyes, rubbing his face with his hand and trying not to fall asleep. Suddenly, Mr. Maxwell stopped talking. Eddie opened his eyes in time to see the door opening, someone walking into the classroom. All eyes turned to look at this person interrupting their teachers droning. 

‘Oh fuck me.’ 

That was Eddies first thought. His second thought was that Bill was right, that bastard. 

Standing at the front of the classroom was the new kid. He was as skinny as a stick, wearing a leather jacket, combat boots, and a Nirvana t-shirt. His hair was black, long, and curly. Eddie thought it looked a lot like that guy from that old band that Bill really liked. The Doors. He had a cigarette tucked behind his ear, and he wasn’t carrying a backpack or anything, he didn’t even have any books. 

“Is this English 11?” He asked, and Eddie honest to God had to stop himself from swooning. His voice was deep and so nice to listen to. Mr. Maxwell nodded. 

“Are you Richard Tozier?” He asked, sounding quite patronizing. The kid just smiled, flashing his white teeth. 

“You can call me Richie,” he said. 

“Well, Richie, you can call me Mr. Maxwell. And you may take your seat as well, we’re just in the middle of reading MacBeth.” 

Richie waltzed down the rows of desks, heading towards the back where there was an empty seat. Right next to Eddie. He plopped himself down, immediately folding up his arms and putting his head down on top. Mr. Maxwell started to read again, but Eddie wasn’t paying any attention. He was staring at this new kid, a look of fascination on his face. Richie didn’t lift his head up once, not until the bell rang signaling the end of the day. Eddie started packing away his things quickly, watching as Richie got up and left, all the students looking at him as if he were a different species of human. As soon as he was out of the room everyone began talking, their voices loud. Eddie overheard one girl say he was from New York City, making her friend gasp. 

Eddie left quickly, excited to tell Bill the news. By the time he made it to the bike rack Bill was already there, looking very excited. 

“Did you hear?! There really is a n-new kid! And he’s so f-fucking cool, dude! I haven’t suh-seen him yet, but I heard it from Ch-Chester Hader.” Eddie just nodded rapidly. 

“I saw him—he was insanely cool, like, like Mark Hunter Pump Up The Volume cool!” He was talking so fast he began to wheeze. 

Bill smiled, punching Eddies arm lightly. 

“See , I t-told you something cool could h-happen here.” 

“Yeah! This is the greatest thing that’s ever happened, I swear! You know I bet he plays guitar, guys like him always play the guitar, at least they do in movies—“ Eddie was cut off when Bills eyes widened and he pointed behind the other boy, towards the front doors of the school. Richie was walking out, the cigarette from behind his ear now lit and dangling from his lips. He made his way down the steps, passing the bike rack and making eye contact with Eddie, giving him a small smile. He kept going, continuing down the sidewalk. Eddie stood there for a minute, too stunned to do anything. He finally turned around to face Bill, who was looking at him with the same shocked expression that he was wearing himself. 

“What the f-fuck was that?!” Bill asked, not believing what he just saw. 

“How should I know?! Do you think he meant to do that?” Eddies cheeks were tinted red, he always blushed when he was flustered. 

“Well he wasn’t l-looking at me, that’s for sh-sure!” Bill said, his smile too big for his face. 

Eddie looked down the sidewalk, seeing Richie all the way down the road now, heading up towards City Center and the giant Paul Bunyan statue. He sighed, turning back towards Bill. 

“Come on, let’s get over to your house, didn’t you say you got that new Super Mario Kart for your snes?” He took his bike out and began walking it along the sidewalk. 

Bill stood where he was for a minute, looking from his friend to the spot where the new kid had been, before he got his bike and followed Eddie. 

“Yeah! It looks too fucking r-rad!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will set the plot moving forward, these guys just needed some background first. Thank you so much for reading, it means a whole lot. Feel free to comment, I always love reading what people think! Enjoy :)

Richie was fed up. No, strike that, he was beyond pissed. 

Another new town, another whole new set of kids to try and make friends with, another set of teachers who looked at him like he was some kind of monster. 

New York had been good, awesome actually. In Queens no one cared what he looked like or who he was. He could blend in so well, like he was invisible or something. But Derry, Maine, this was like an entirely different world. In the mere two days that he’d been there for, he’d already gotten yelled at by his new neighbor, some cranky old lady who’d seen him carrying his guitar and amp in from the moving van and began telling him off, warning him not to play any loud or obnoxious music so that she could hear it. He’d just rolled his eyes, walking into his new home. At least, for the time being, until his dad got another job offer and they moved again. That night, he’d made sure to play extra loud, just for that sweet old lady. 

He didn’t hate his parents, no matter what some people may insinuate. But any kid would get annoyed and angry when they were constantly having their life packed up in boxes and moved across the country whenever their dad got depressed. He thought the world of his mom, with her soft hands and kind eyes, the way she would always give him a hug when he got home from school. His dad meant well, he loved his wife and son very much, he just didn’t like to be tied down in one place, for whatever reason. And Richie just had to deal with it. So he wore lots of black clothes and listened to Nirvana and Weezer and painted his nails sometimes, just to say ‘fuck you!’ to the world. He was just as smart as any other kid, maybe even a little bit smarter, but he never applied himself. He just didn’t see the point. He never stayed at one school for longer than a year anyways. 

He didn’t have any friends, either, because how could he? Sure he would hang out with people wherever he ended up, usually the stoners or the weird punk kids no one else talked to. But they weren’t his friends, he couldn’t tell them his secrets or share anything he was feeling. He’d never even had someone sleep over at his house. That had always been a secret dream of his, no matter how childish. He was lonely, he could admit that to himself. But he didn’t see that changing any time soon. 

He hadn’t really felt like going to school that first day, instead opting to check out his new hometown. There was an arcade inside the movie theater, that was promising. He wandered the sidewalks for a while after spending some silver on Street Fighter, ending up at a park. 

‘Memorial Park,’ the sign read, and it confused Richie. He didn’t see any memorials around. He did see a bird bath, though, and a large white cylinder sticking out of the ground. He guessed it was about a hundred feet tall, at least, with windows going up the side in a spiral formation. He sat down on the bench next to the bird bath, trying to imagine what that humongous building could hold. 

After a while he got bored, there was no one else around, all the kids presumably at school. He knew where Derry High was, his mother had pointed it out to him when they first arrived in town. He sighed, figuring he could still make the last class if he hurried. What else was there to do? 

He walked down Center Street, heading towards Pasture Road where the high school was located. As he passed another patch of green grass, this ones sign saying ‘Bassey Park,’ he made a disgruntled face. There was that giant statue of Paul Bunyan, the one he’d also seen upon his arrival. There was just something about it that got under his skin. Maybe it was Paul’s gigantic plastic grin, or that huge axe resting on his shoulder. Whatever it was, Richie couldn’t stand to look at it for longer than a minute. He noticed a green bench in front of the statue, thinking to himself, “Who the hell would want to sit there and look at his ugly mug?” He turned his head away from the statue, making his way down Pasture Road. 

The high school was small, probably only big enough for 500 students, which was perfect for a place like Derry. He entered through a side door, not wanting to encounter any principals or unwanted authority figures. He checked the schedule he’d been sent in the mail, seeing that his last class of the day was English 11, with Mr. Maxwell. 

“This should be fun,” he thought. 

.

As soon as the bell rang he’d lifted his head from his desk and headed for the door, only taking the time to notice the boy sitting at the desk next to him, his gaze lingering on Richie. Not judging, not scrutinizing. He looked almost transfixed. Richie thought he was sort of cute, in a boyish way. He had short brown hair and a freckled face, his eyes a deep, dark brown. He thought about saying something to the boy, but decided he didn’t want to stick around, already sensing all the pairs of unwanted eyes examining him, their mouths itching to whisper rumors and spin cautionary tales to their peers about where he came from and who he was and why he was Trouble. He went to the bathroom, locking the door to make sure no one would walk in on him. He splashed cold water on his face, staring at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes blank behind his glasses. His chest ached with loneliness, an empty feeling right where his heart rested. He left the bathroom, thinking of that boy, for one reason or another. He lit up his cigarette on his way out of the big double doors, afternoon sunlight flooding his vision. 

He immediately noticed the boy from English, standing next to the bike rack. He had another boy with him, this one taller, and he was looking at Richie with wide eyes. Yet he didn’t look menacing or judgemental. Like his friend, he simply looked fascinated. English-Boy turned around, and Richie stared into his eyes for just a moment, giving him a small smile, hoping to convey his gratitude. It made him blush, and it tugged at Richies heart, a new feeling entirely. He turned away from the boy and his friend, smiling to himself, as he made his way home. He began whistling a song that he’d been trying to learn on guitar. 

_“I’m so happy, because today I’ve found my friends.” ___


End file.
